


ecstasy & exultations

by Anonymous



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Artist AU, College AU, HoshiHiru, Light Bondage, M/M, Porn With Plot, discord request, hiruhoshi? what ship name, hook-ups, idk how to tag this, no beta we die like men, some D/s undertones
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-11
Updated: 2020-10-11
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:06:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26941867
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Hoshiumi bites his tongue. It’s not every day he gets an excuse to be completely alone with, and in a compromising position around someone that he was this attracted to. His eyes don’t leave Sachiro Hirugami's perfect jawline and exposed neck as he wonders how he can get their dynamic to shift in his favor. He knows he’s a bad muse because he doesn’t think so much about what he can do for his painter.He fantasizes about what his painter can do for him.
Relationships: Hirugami Sachirou/Hoshiumi Kourai
Comments: 4
Kudos: 72
Collections: Anonymous





	ecstasy & exultations

**Author's Note:**

> how do you title smut 
> 
> ✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦

Each brush stroke feels empty, devoid of color and substance. Canvases no longer speak to him in the way they used to, and everything about art feels like a chore. 

His colleagues tell him it’s burnout. Sachiro wonders if he’s ever had passion for anything. Art, love, movies, every fixation he’s had has come and go. He enjoys the act of bringing out the beauty in things, extracting them where they might not exist, but rarely does he feel captivated.

Until one day, his eyes linger over pictures of a new model who’s adamant to have him paint him. 

“Hoshiumi Korai,” Sachiro says the name like it’s a song that doesn’t make sense to him. It’s a strange name by Japanese standards, and fits an even stranger looking person. Hoshiumi looks like he belongs in some kind of museum exhibit.

“So you’re _Hirugami_ ,” Hoshiumi cocks an eyebrow. He’s brilliant in the light, his white hair flashy.

Everything about Hoshiumi is beautiful to behold. Hirugami can’t stop tracing over his large eyes, soft lips the color of a young girl’s blush, and light blue veins framing his muscles. If Sachiro was at one of his usual gay bar haunts in Shinjuku, it’s the type of person he doesn’t hesitate taking home.

“That is my name, yes,” Sachiro says pointedly. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

Hoshiumi doesn’t want to admit it to himself, but usually the artists that paint him are not as appealing. Either they’re old and grizzled or tired college students who ogle him like he’s this unreachable demigod. He’s never met an artist who is as pretty as what they paint, which is a rude admission he’s fully aware of. But Hirugami is pretty in a way that reminds Hoshiumi of his adolescent heartbreaks. If conventional beauty had bullet points, Sachiro marks all of them. He’s handsome, he looks like a challenge, he looks damn good with his sleeves rolled up and his brown eyes calm and calculating, and a mess of wild brown hair. Hoshiumi’s heard whispers from around the department that he’s gay with a reputation for keeping people at bay, but once you see him, you fall for his spell. He’s the one that everyone has loved at least once, Hoshiumi thinks.

“I’ve been going through a dry spell,” Sachiro remarks. “And I need someone to help me get out of that.”

He pulls out a piece of paper, looking at poses he’s had ideas for. “Why don’t you take a look at these and tell me what you’re comfortable with?”

Hoshiumi receives the piece of paper, his eyes squinting at the list of demands. “Well no wonder you’re running dry,” he says, “These are incredibly uninspiring prompts. What do you want to paint?”

Sachiro frowns, taking the paper back. “If I knew what I wanted to paint, I wouldn’t be looking through a list like that.”

“What are your vices?”

Hoshiumi doesn’t bite the bullet. Sachiro’s never met anyone like this in his life, the entire art department full of people pleasers or people too malicious with their critique that he feels like he can never get anywhere when they’re pitching ideas at each other. He feels like instead of a painting session, he’s at a confessional.

“Smoking,” Sachiro says uneasily. “Drinking during the day… sex?”

“Do you want me to smoke for you then? Light me one.”

Sachiro lets out a laugh at Hoshiumi’s eagerness. He can’t see someone like Korai smoking, his boyish face youthful even if he’s a year older than him. “That’s not the image I had for you.”

“What does that mean, asshole?” Hoshiumi senses the meaning behind Sachiro’s words and gets up quickly. “We’re art students. All of the above is like eating and drinking to me. What about the last one? People always have me suspended in the air like an angel if that’s somewhere to start. Got any pent up frustrations you want to vent? I’m down for anything.”

“Well you’re certainly a braver model than most,” Sachiro says, putting a hand under his chin. He pushes away the invasive thoughts that flood his mind. The word suspended sticks in his mind. Suspension. 

A switch goes off in his head.

“I went to a seminar on bondage actually,” Sachiro replies easily, watching Hoshiumi squirm at how blatantly he said it. “And it’s not something I’ve done a lot in practice, but I bought some ropes in case I’d want to practice it sometime. Do you want to pose like that for me?” Hoshiumi hasn’t been holding back from him so he feels no need to pay him the same courtesy.

“What the hell?” Hoshiumi snaps, his hair standing up. Sachiro looks too unfazed by this.

“If you don’t want to take off your clothes, that’s fine. I have an active imagination.”

“But you’re still thinking about me naked, huh!?”

“Nevermind, we can do something else… wait, what are you doing?”

Sachiro is bewildered at this turn of events. Without prompting, Hoshiumi strips down to his underwear, cursing under his breath as he shoots a disgusted look at Hirugami. “I said I’ll do literally anything for modeling. I don’t turn down any request,” Hoshiumi says pointedly. “You want everything off?”

Hirugami immediately regrets the wine he drank at his last club party before this session. Alcohol always acts like a lubricant between the thoughts in his mind and the words that slipped out of him. “Well, it would help,” he replies.

Sachiro takes out the rope he’s been storing and gets to work with the knots. He’s always been good with his hands and following directions, his photographic memory serving him well as he guides the rope down Hoshiumi’s body, stopping a few times to remember the right steps. For someone who scolded him moments before, Korai was being awfully silent and compliant the whole time. He’s not a stranger to dealing with boys.

“Could it be…” Sachiro says, his voice amused. “You’re into this are you?”

Hoshiumi makes a sputtering noise. “What?”

“You seem eager to me. Since I’ve been working on you, you haven’t stopped staring at my belt. You don’t happen to like boys do you?” Sachiro doesn’t know why he’s so bold all of a sudden.

“I mean, I’ve had… but… I’ve been with a lot of...” Hoshiumi fumbles for words but can’t speak. “But what does my sexuality have to do with this?

“Oh I was just noticing. You’re awfully hard right now,” Sachiro says matter-of-factly. “And the look on your face is absolutely filthy. It’s a great reference.”

Hoshiumi feels like he’s been splashed with water as Sachiro flashes a facetious smile. “You might be the best muse I’ve ever had. This is giving me a lot of ideas,” Sachiro continues his face animated as he’s tightening the knots. “This enough circulation for you? Don’t worry, I won’t touch you there.”

_Damn,_ Hoshiumi bites his tongue. It’s not every day he gets an excuse to be completely alone with, and in a compromising position around someone that he was this attracted to. His eyes don’t leave Sachiro Hirugami’s perfect jawline and exposed neck as he wonders how he can get their dynamic to shift in his favor. He knows he’s a bad muse because he doesn’t think so much about what he can do for his painter.

He fantasizes about what his painter can do for him.

“I didn’t know you were this kind of person,” Hoshiumi says, squirming while he fights against the ropes to test how tight they are. A blush crosses his face as he looks at himself in the mirror, naked and suspended in the air.

“Not usually,” Sachiro smirks, getting up from the old wooden stool he’s been straddling as he does his handiwork. He takes Hoshiumi’s face in his large hand and squeezes this cheeks gently. “Keep looking at yourself the whole time. You have a beautiful face.”

“I know,” Hoshiumi stutters out, his head dizzy. 

“I thought you said that you liked being in the air,” Sachiro continues, stroking Hoshiumi’s hair. “Suspended.”

Hoshiumi scowls. “This isn’t what I was talking about, asshole. I didn’t have any perverted thoughts when I came here!”

“Oh really?” Sachiro caresses the side of Hoshiumi’s face, pulling the rope up to get Korai to arch his back. “How come you didn’t fight me at all when I was tying you up? Don’t lie to me, Korai. You want this.”

He’s been found out. Hoshiumi smirks, licking his lips unable to hold back his lust. “You got me,” he says hungrily. “You’re an artist right? Make me beautiful.”

“I’m not that horny yet,” Sachiro says, pulling out one of his thicker brushes. “You’ll have to do some convincing, with less talking.” 

Sachiro doesn’t hesitate as he puts the brush up to Hoshiumi’s mouth, the white haired man’s mouth parting immediately to receive it. His tongue flicks the tip before taking it all in, all the way to the end of the handle. He doesn’t cut his eye contact with Sachiro, his lustful olive eyes telling him, _This could be you._

Sachiro bites his lip, much to Hoshiumi’s satisfaction. He starts licking and sucking more aggressively, saliva running down his mouth as he lets out some moans to add to the effect. _That’s the reaction I want,_ Hoshiumi thinks to himself with pride. 

Sachiro hates the feeling of losing control. He pulls out the brush from Hoshiumi’s mouth with a light smack. “Alright, you’ve passed the first test,” Sachiro says, trying not to break a sweat as all he can think about is Hoshiumi Korai and his lustful, feral gaze as he’s deep throating a paintbrush. “Keep looking at the mirror, it’s my time to play.”

Korai does what he’s told, tilting his head to face the mirror as Sachiro admires his new canvas. Soft skin for miles, tightened over the right groups of muscles that would envy the gods. He imagines what kinds of colors he wants to introduce to it.. angry red pink staccatos that match the imprints of his teeth, trails sunset purple fingertips along his exposed thigh, Sachiro has never wanted any of his muses that way, but Hoshiumi fills him with desire. But first, he wants to see how the body reacts to desire. He licks the hairs of his brush and drags the tip in circles around Hoshiumi’s erect nipples, his tongue dipping in the curves of Korai’s body.

“Aah,” Hoshiumi stifles a moan. Every part of him is stimulated and his expression contorts as he’s hit with another wave of pleasure. 

“Try to be quiet,” Sachiro whispers into his ear, grazing the lobe with his teeth as he plays with Hoshiumi’s sensitive regions with his brush. “And don’t stop looking at yourself. When’s the last time you fucked your artist?”

“I’m a professional,” Hoshiumi says hopelessly, his eyes rolling back as he feels Sachiro’s hand slap his bottom. “I’m n-not…”

“You don’t have to lie to me Korai. You’re presenting yourself to me like you’ve done it so many times,” Sachiro taunts him, his tongue brushing over Hoshiumi’s opening. “And you’re so clean too… like you’ve been preparing.”

Hoshiumi is guilty. He knows what he’s signing up for with one on ones with someone he would want to sleep with. He knew Sachiro was his age, gay, and it’s not the first time he’s convinced someone to sleep with him and it probably won’t be his last. He knows how to use his weapons, but didn’t bargain for Sachiro to be so unhinged. “Stop denying yourself then and fuck me,” Hoshiumi says almost desperately. 

“No,” Sachiro replies, a sadistic smile crossing his face. “I want to see the full range of your body before I pay you. I’m going to fuck you with the handle. Give me your best orgasm face so that I don’t forget it. I’ll take some pictures for reference.”

“Pictures?” Hoshiumi spits out, spotting the flash of a camera in his reflection.

“Mhm,” Hirugami says sweetly. “I want to keep painting you, even when you’re not with me. You look like Cupid you know? Except instead of a statue, you’re the real deal.”

Flattery turns on Hoshiumi like a switch. He doesn’t complain as the brush enters him the first time. The handle is still well lubricated from his own saliva and he wishes he could buck his hips to make it go in deeper. His eyes roll back as Sachiro pushes it in and out, wishing he could break free from the ropes and give himself more agency to receive. “Harder,” Hoshiumi pants, the expression on his face spelling out pure bliss.

The handle brushes against his prostate, the friction driving him off the edge. Another flash goes off but Hoshiumi doesn’t care. He’s never felt more beautiful, or more alive as he’s having the best foreplay of his life. Outside these doors he loved his dominance and the pride of never submitting, but giving up his freedom was opening up a world of pleasure that he never experienced before. “I haven’t even put it in yet,” Sachiro unzips his pants, watching Hoshiumi’s eyes widen in the mirror as he sees the artist’s manhood, “And you look like you’re about to cum any minute from getting fucked by my brush.”

“Please,” Hoshiumi begs, his tears tearing up as the pressure in his ass keeps building with each thrust. “I’ll do anything you want. I’ll pose any way you like, just give it to me.”

“Normally I wouldn’t give in like this,” Sachiro says, grabbing the sides of Hoshiumi’s waist, a blush spreading on his face. “But I’m a little drunk today and you’re too tempting.”

His dick slides into Hoshiumi easily, but once it’s in it feels like a struggle to take out. Korai is impossibly warm and tight, engulfing his hardness with nothing but softness and a stickiness that reminds him of sunshine and honey. If the white haired man wasn’t begging him to move, Sachiro thinks he would want to stay there. The first thrust is wet and loud, accompanied with a sharp cry that makes Sachiro’s instincts feral. He wants to see Hoshiumi break in front of him, the thought of such a strong creature mindlessly getting fucked turning him on beyond belief.

Hoshiumi is a loud lover there’s no doubt about it. He lets out a cry as Sachiro pulls his hair as he fucks him, and Sachiro hopes no one else is around him. He sticks his hands in Hoshiumi’s mouth, stretching it as wide as he can as he wants to be inside of him every way he can. He wants his artwork to belong to him, even for a little moment. “Korai,” Sachiro gasps. Hoshiumi isn’t in any position to do anything while he’s bound like that and gagged by his hands, but Hirugami cannot stop admiring his muse’s beauty. 

With no warning Sachiro bites down on the nape of Hoshiumi’s neck, hard. Korai lets out the sweetest moan as he’s still being thrust into while being bitten. The friction and resistance drives him crazy, the ecstasy like a drug he can’t break from. It’s the kind of sex he dreams about having but never fulfilling until now.

Sachiro’s bangs have fallen over his eyes, his shirt unbuttoned and wrinkled at this point, and sweat dripping down his face as he wants to savor the feeling of fucking Hoshiumi like this forever. He’s biting down harder as he’s on the brink of cumming himself. _Korai… Korai.. I want to make you mine… Mine forever… you little devil…_

“Sachiro,” Hoshiumi says Hirugami’s name in a low, throaty voice. “Finish inside of me.”

“You’re crazy,” Sachiro gasps heavily. “I just met you.”

“Fill me up,” Hoshiumi has his tongue lolling out, his eyes glazed over as he begs for Sachiro. “I want to have all of you in me. Make my body your territory.”

Those words set off a chain of reactions in Hirugami he has never felt before. His crueler self would have berated those words, uttered nonsensically in the heat of the moment, but when Korai says it, and begs for it, it’s hot and feels like a command. He’s never cum so hard in his life, his spent dick twitching as it empties out inside probably the most beautiful vessel he’s ever had access to, his cum dripping on the ground like white paint.

“Damn it,” Sachiro growls, realizing he’s broken his own codes of conduct because he couldn’t resist Hoshiumi’s devilish charms. 

“Looks like I won even when I was all tied up,” Hoshiumi says with an evil grin, his cheeks still flushed with red and his body no longer pristine. He’s got a bite mark deeper than anything anyone’s neared into his flesh before and where Sachiro grabbed him is a trail of bruises. 

“I’m marking you as dangerous,” Sachiro warns, his own shame washing over him. “I really got carried away…”

“You look pretty good when you’re enjoying yourself,” Hoshiumi sneers. “When is the last time you’ve put your pleasure over someone else’s?”

“It’s not my style,” Sachiro answers, wiping away the mess. He still reeks of sex and wants nothing more than to go home and take a shower. His plans have seriously been derailed and his paintings forgotten. He starts sympathizing with those who have fallen prey to incubi.

“Untie me and take me home,” Hoshiumi continues with a wicked smile. “And I’ll show you what I can do with my hands. Let’s go for another round.” 

_Damn it,_ Sachiro curses every gay cell in his body. He’s never met anyone so willing and yet so dominant with his desires. It’s everything he wants at almost no cost, because he knows by the way Hoshiumi Korai stares at him hungrily, that he wants him too.

“Yeah,” Sachiro breathes, using a pocketknife to cut Hoshiumi from his ropes. “I want to keep going with you.”


End file.
